The Substitute Teacher
by Geoduck
Summary: Once again, Hogwarts has lost a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Until they can find a permanent replacement, a certain organization is happy to lend them a substitute.
1. Chapter 1

At breakfast, Hogwarts was abuzz. The "Defence Against the Dark Arts" professorship was vacant once again.

Hermione sighed. "This is beginning to become tedious."

"Maybe, but what did you suspect?" said Ron. "Have we ever had a Dark Arts professor that lasted long?"

"No, but they usually last most of the school year. This one didn't last one full **day** until he... how did it all go, Harry?"

Harry recited from a parchment he had been reading. "'Possessed by Voldemort, attacked by dementors, struck on the head by a stray bludger, cursed, jinxed, and leg-humped by Fluffy.'" Harry put the parchment down. "Frankly, I'm surprised he survived to resign."

"So who do you suppose..." Hermione was interrupted by an announcement from the head table.

Professor Dumbledore spoke. "Students of Hogwarts, good morning. I'm sorry to inform you that Professor Totfleisch, our Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, has elected to return to his former position at Durmstrang. While we hope to quickly find a..." Dumbledore made the quotation marks sign with his fingers. "...'permanent' replacement from our list of qualified suckers--I mean, applicants--we do have a temporary substitute who should be arriving this morning. Thank you, carry on."

The chatter in the hall instantly turned to speculation about the temporary professor's identity. "You don't suppose ti might be Moody... or Lupin?"

Ron grunted. "Forget it, Harry, you know we aren't that lucky. It's gonna be Umbridge again."

* * *

Hermione looked at her schedule. "Well, we've got double D.A.D.A. for our first class today, so it looks like we'll find out soon enough."

In the Defence Against the Dark Arts clasroom, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students were waiting on tenterhooks for their new professor's arrival.

Curiousity was so strong that even though the class was ten minutes late in starting, not one student had even suggested the idea of sneaking out.

The door opened and Dumbledore walked in. "Oh, everyone here already? Good, good. Professor, this way, please." He stood at the rear of the classroom and motioned the new teacher forward.

"But **I'm** not a professor, sir" came a voice that was suspiciously female, high-pitched, cute and sexy.

And as she walked in, her figure fulfilled all the promises her voice had made. Her hair was blonde and short, and just untidy enough to appeal to man's baser instincts. She was not tall, but her figure was far from petite.

Ron was agog. "Take a look at those, er... _owls_" he said _sotto voce_ to Harry.

"Yes... nicest owls I've ever seen."

Hermione had a blank look on her face for a moment before she worked out the math (Owls hoot... therefore Owls Hooters). After which, she gave both Ron and Harry a good smack on the back of the head.

"Hey, that hurt. Anyway, what's that weird thing she's wearing? It looks muggleish."

"Looks like maybe an Army uniform?"

"No, Harry, they don't have miniskirts in the Army, do they? It looks more like a police uniform to me."

The teacher faced the class. "It's a little of both." Harry and Hermione jumped a bit... they thought they had been speaking inaudibly. "Hello, boys and girls. My name is Seras Victoria. I'm here on loan from the Hellsing Organization to teach you how to defeat certain magical creatures."

Hermione had her hand up. "Yes, you there in the front."

"Professor Victoria... are we going to be using our wands today?"

"Wands? No, sorry, no. I won't be teaching you magic today or at any time."

This statement caused quite a bit of consternation. From the rear of the room, Dumbledore spoke up. "Miss Victoria is not, in point of fact, a witch. She is, however, very qualified in... _alternative_ means of defense. Carry on, Miss Victoria."

"Thank you, Professor. Right, then. Our first topic is ghouls. My preferred means for fighting ghouls is the 30 mm 'Harkonnen' Cannon, but it's a bit tricky to use since it's a single-shot breech loader. Practice makes perfect, though, so we've put together a makeshift firing range. Let's get down there and get started, shall we?"

Class would never be the same again.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: I never intended this to be a multi-chapter story, but I was so gratified at the positive reviews I received that I simply couldn't leave it at that.

This is just a vignette, and I can't promise that I'll write any more, but I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

A brief stunned silence fell on the class.

Malfoy was the first to find his tongue. "Are you suggesting that we should defeat magical creatures not with spells but with... gums?"

Hermione smacked her forehead with her palm. "Malfoy, you idiot, the word is 'guns', not 'gums.'" She turned to the new teacher. "But he's got a point. How are we supposed to defeat magical creatures without magic?"

Seras looked ill-at-ease. "Well, uh, you know..."

Dumbledore spoke up again. "I think that you all are underestimating Miss Victoria's alternative means. Perhaps a demonstration might be in order?"

Seras nodded. "Right. Any volunteers? You can use absolutely any kind of magic against me, and I won't use any weapons at all."

"Anyone who can beat Miss Victoria will win 100 points for her or his house," Dumbledore added.

A dozen confident hands shot up. Seras pointed towards one. "You were first. Malfoy, is it?"

Quickly, a space was cleared, with students clustering around the edges in order to get a good view from a safe distance. Malfoy stood at a ready position, his wand brandished for combat.

Across from him, Seras stood with arms akimbo. "Right, are you ready, Malfoy? Start whenever you want. I won't start until you do."

Malfoy breathed in deeply, then began his spell. "Re-"

Almost faster than anyone could see, Seras swept Malfoy's feet from under him, then from his back, pulled his arms behind him. She pinned his arms, along with the rest of him, to the floor, with her knee in the middle of his back.

"There. Now, can you move, Malfoy? If you can't, then make absolutely no movement."

The young Slytherin, face flushed with humiliation, lay still.

"Right." She released him, and helped him off the floor. His body was trembling slightly as he made his way over to Crabbe and Goyle. "Anybody else want to try?"

There were no volunteers.

"Super. Well, I trust that is an ample demonstration of non-magical defenses against magical attacks. In the weeks I'll be teaching, you'll be learning armed and unarmed combat, the care and use of firearms, and elementary marksmanship. It's not enough time to learn everything, but you should get the basics of self-defense. Any questions?"

Ron raised his hand. Seras looked at him. "You there, redhead. What's your name?"

"Ron Weasley. Miss Victoria... are you a veela?"

Silently, Hermione thwacked him on the back of the head.

"Am I a what? I don't know what that word means, but it sounded rude to me. Professor Dumbledore, was that a rude comment just now?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It could be interpreted thus."

"Right then. Weasley, I'll have a special job for you. I'm going to teach you all how to use tasers, and you just volunteered to be the target."


	3. Chapter 3

Ron moaned. "That's it. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Please let it be soon."

Hermione patted him on the shoulder, not unsympathetically. "You're going to be okay. Everything I've read indicates that that weapon only causes pain, it doesn't cause permanent damage.

"Yeah," Harry added helpfully, "plus you probably got a lot of toxins out of your system when you crapped yourself like that."

Ron covered his face with his hands and sobbed. "I can't believe I crapped myself in front of the only sexy teacher we ever had!"

Harry smirked slightly. "Well, she might not have noticed that considering how much you were vomiting at the same time."

"Shut up! Shut up!" Ron threw a cushion at Harry. "Oh bloody hell, kill me now."

Hermione sniffed. "I don't know why you are making such a big deal about Miss Victoria. She's not that good looking."

The two housemates looked at her in disbelief. "Are you daft?" Ron asked. "The hair... and the face. And the... other bits."

"Hermione, didn't you notice that her legs go all the way up?"

"Plus, she's not that much older than we are—not like some best-selling amnesiac authors I could mention. So it's not completely implausible."

Hermione stood up, fire in her eyes. "If you're going to keep throwing that in my face..."

Harry slapped his hand over Ron's mouth. "Sorry, he shouldn't have brought that up. But you have to admit that she's the best-looking teacher we've got."

Although she was still steaming a bit, she spoke civilly. "Well, that's as may be, but I happen to know that it's no use in dreaming about her. She's got a boyfriend, and what's more, he's on the faculty here."

In unison, Ron and Harry stood up, each of them grasping one of Hermione's shoulders. "Who?" they asked simultaneously, their eyes burning with frightening intensity.

"S-Snape."

There was a moment of dead silence.

"SNAPE?"

"You're joking!"

"There's no way!"

"Our angel? Dating that... that thing?"

"Besides, isn't he gay?"

"Sorry to ruin your fantasies, boys," (They thought, with some bitterness, that she didn't seem even vaguely sorry) "but I saw it with my own eyes."

"What did you see?"

"Maybe you misinterpreted it."

"Tell us! Tell us!"

"Well, after D.A.D.A. Today, while Harry was helping you to the," (snicker) "...lavatory, I was going to ask Miss Victoria a question..."

* * *

A crowd of excited students surrounded the young Hellsing officer.

"Miss Victoria, that device is completely muggle-made?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but it's not magical, if that's what you're asking. It runs on batteries."

"Have you arrested people?"

"Well, yeah. I used to be a regular police officer."

"You can use those handcuffs on me anytime." Hermione wasn't certain exactly who said that last line (rather _sotto voce_), but she suspected it might have been Malfoy, who was skulking away. She was about to ask her own question of the new teacher, when she spied a familiar menacing figure in the hallway.

"Ah, Snape's traditional 'intimidate the new teacher because she got the job he wanted'", Hermione thought.

"Miss Victoria? Might I pull you away for a moment?" That... was odd. It wasn't even _vaguely_ threatening or ominous.

"Oh, anything for you, Sev." Now that was interesting. First name basis? And, Hermione had to admit, the way Snape had winced when she said his name was moderately hilarious.

The two teachers walked down the hall together. Hermione followed as close as she could without blatantly appearing as though she were spying on them. And so, the next few exchanges only came through in scraps.

"...mumble mumble made preparations..."

"...err, liquid diet mumble..."

"...mumble your bed mumble...."

The two teachers had been walking in the direction of the teacher's rooms. They stopped outside one of the doors and talked a bit more, Hermione a distance away.

"Still, it has been a rather long day for me. I should probably turn in."

"Very well, Miss Victoria. Good night."

"Aren't you going to offer to tuck me in?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Oh, you're no fun. Clearly I'm going to have to beg for a good night kiss, like back then..."

* * *

"...and when I heard her say that, I was so shocked that I realized that it was really wrong of me to listen in, so I took off. And so..."

Hermione looked at her two companions. "Are you... crying?"

Ron looked up with tears streaming down his face. "Not crying. Not depressed that unbelievably hot teacher has been nabbed by Snape the Disgusting. Now leave me alone."

Harry shook his head. "I never knew the old guy had it in him. And now that I know he does, I'd like to have my memory erased."

* * *

Meanwhile...

"So, let me get zis straight, Walter. I am supposed to go to some imaginary magical private school to 'elp Seras teach marksmanship to pint-sized witches and wizards?"

"That is the gist of her request, yes."

"Zis continues to be ze strangest job I 'ave ever 'ad."

**Author's note**: Thanks for reading! I will do my best to continue this crazy little story.


	4. Chapter 4

As the students of Hogwarts had breakfast, Professor McGonagall sat down next to Dumbledore at the faculty table.

"Good morning, headmaster."

"Ah, Minerva, good morning. All is well with you, I trust?"

"Yes, thank you. But I noticed that Professor Snape looks rather bedraggled."

"True enough. Severus does look a bit like the thing that a cat, present company excluded, dragged in." The old wizard scratched his beard. "I suppose we have young Miss Victoria to thank for that."

Professor McGonagall frowned as she stirred her mandragora tea (with lemon). "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, you know her by now. Seras. She's been, shall we say, keeping him up at night."

"Headmaster, do you have any idea what you sound like you are saying?"

"Hmm? I'm not sure what you are implying. I merely wished to point out that it is because of Seras that Severus has been getting very little sleep and is becoming physically exhausted. Hmm... Seras herself isn't here at all. I wonder what that would imply?"

"Oh, Albus." McGonagall shook her head. "You really enjoy doing this, don't you?"

Dumbledore, who was digging a bit of earwax out with one of his pinkies glanced at her innocently. "Sorry, I must have missed what you said just now. By the way, did you see the latest issue of _Heard Around Hogwarts_?"

"That horrible scandal sheet? I don't know why you don't track down what students are responsible for it and shut it down immediately."

"I find it quite interesting to learn what the students are thinking about, unshackled by the censorship of propriety. And as it turns out, the students are thinking quite a lot about our new temporary professor." The elderly headmaster handed a scroll to the head of Gryffindor house.

McGonagall gamely unrolled it, but quickly reddened. "This... this... filth!"

"What do you mean, Minerva?"

"I mean the headline, of course! _'Snape bones Seras: Potions master conquers twin peaks of Mt. Victoria. Did he seduce her with a love elixir?_' What horrible, infamous, libelous rubbish!"

"Hilarious, isn't it?"

"You... you..." Professor McGonagall re-rollled the scroll and slapped it down on the table. The loud noise briefly turned all heads in her direction.

McGonagall huffed with annoyance. "Men!"

* * *

Severus Snape was in a foul mood.

As he stalked down a corridor, he approached a huddled group of Ravenclaw girls. As they heard him approach, their whispered conversation silenced. And they all stared at him: stares which he ignored.

After he passed them. He heard the whispered conversations return, accompanied by giggling.

Snape **hated** giggling.

Some girls seemed to be scared of him... more than usual, that is. Some boys seemed to sneer at him... more than usual, that is.

It was really starting to get on his nerves.

And for some reason, some boys seemed to be reacting to him with... admiration? Having never received any before, Snape decided it was quite loathsome and he detested it. After all, who in blazes wants to be admired by idiots?

"Oh, Sev!" A cute young blonde vampire waved to him.

"Talking of idiots," Snape muttered. "Yes?" he answered her curtly.

She was looking at him with concern. If anything, that was even more sickening than admiration. "Sev, you look a mess. There are bags underneath the bags underneath your eyes."

"Never mind my eyes."

"And your skin is all blotchy and you have a horrible pallor."

"I'll just have my morning arsenic and I'll be fresh as a newly-mown daisy. What do you want, Miss Victoria?"

"I just wanted to check to see if everything was ready."

"Finally, yes, so there's no need of you buttering me up anymore."

A couple of students passing by whispered to each other. "Did you get what he said?" "Not completely, but he said something about lubrication."

Snape narrowed his eyes even further. "Three nights in a row I haven't gotten any sleep at all because of you."

"Three nights?" "What kind of stamina does he have?" "Well, surely his potions helped."

"But finally, Miss Victoria, it is over. I won't be losing any more sleep because of you."

"HE'S dumping HER? Has the world turned upside-down?" "This calls for a special edition of _H.A.H._ at least!"

Snape whirled around to students lollygagging in the corridors nearby. "Normally I would say something witty and ominous at this point, but I'm bloody exhausted. So, sod off before I start, you know, murdering." The students sodded off, but not without a bit of nervous laughter.

* * *

Seras looked enormously pleased with herself this class. "Good morning, everyone. As much fun as we've had in the last few classes on unarmed combat—by the way, let's all be sure to thank Ron for allowing us to practice the 'kneeing in the groin' technique on him—the time has finally come to learn marksmanship. So let's all head down to the special firing range that Professor Snape has been so good to set up for us."

At the mention of Snape's name, many an ear pricked up, and did Hermione's hand. "What exactly did Professor Snape do, Miss Victoria"?

"He was up all night working on a spell to create a special closed area within Hogwarts where firearms, and other electronic and technological devices can be used. Professor Dumbledore tells me they are normally inert on campus."

There was a sudden wave of disappointment as the end of the innuendo had come wildly prematurely.

"So to help me out, I'll be assisted by another member of the Hellsing organization." Seras looked up and over the students to the rear of the classroom. "Captain Bernadotte? Please come forward." The students turned around to see who was there.

Pip, who was wearing a bomber jacket and his usual bush hat smiled and waved jauntily to the students has he stepped forward, massive rifle in his left hand. "Allo, children."

They stared at him, slack-jawed.

"I 'ope we can all be friends as I 'elp you all learn 'ow to be monster-killing machines, eh?"

Parvati Patil started crying. Most of the other students inched their chairs away from him. Helplessly, Pip looked at Seras, who he noticed was glaring at him. "What? I even smiled at the little maggots. What more do you want from me?"

* * *

**Special Extra:**

After Seras announced that the class would begin target practice, Hermione held up her hand. "Excuse me, Miss Victoria?"

With trepadation, Seras called on her. "Yes?"

"In the first chapter, wasn't it already implied that we had already begin practicing with firearms? So isn't all this to-do about a special firing range somewhat inconsistent?"

Nervously, Seras laughed. "Well, you see, at that point, the author had no idea that this was going to turn into a multi-chapter ongoing story. And when he did decide to make the story a bit longer, he thought it would be funny to put in some apparent sexual tension for the sake of comedy. So, the whole nonsense about muggle-technology-zones and whatnot."

"But, Miss Victoria, between the second and third chapters, didn't you use a taser on Ron here?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"And isn't that a piece of what would be known around here as muggle technology? So shouldn't the taser be inoperable within Hogwarts?"

Seras got a thoughtful look on her face. "Oh, you're right. That is a contradiction, isn't it? The author really cocked up on that one, didn't he?"

There was a sudden flash of light in the classroom, and a sheet of parchment floated down from the ceiling on to the table immediately next to Seras. She picked it up and read it aloud.

"Immediately before the first chapter, Dumbledore cast a special charm on Seras that allows her to use any piece of muggle technology within Hogwarts as long as she is in direct physical contact with it. It would be too much of a risk and too self-defeating to cast a similar charm on all the DADA students, so for that reason, it was necessary to build the firing range. And Hermione is too clever for her own good and will not get any lines in the next chapter, so there. Love, the author."

Seras crumpled up the parchment and threw it away. "Bloody retconning hack."

* * *

In the next chapter: Mayhem! Explosions! Romantic misunderstandings! Probably a flashback! And at least a 20% chance of further retconning!


	5. Chapter 5

_Call me Morgan._

_Please excuse me for being coy. I have to cover up my face and alter my voice as well as use a pseudonym. My complete anonymity is absolutely necessary for my own personal well-being._

_I am publisher, editor-in-chief and star columnist for _Heard Around Hogwarts_._

_Oh, don't play dumb. You've heard of it. The newspaper that dares to strip the robe off the students and faculty of Hogwarts to show the sometimes ugly truth beneath?_

_Okay, okay, I admit it. It's pretty much just a scandal sheet. At a school with a saddening lack of scandal._

_Admittedly, there **is** a lot of news going on here, but it's usually all so dead serious. I don't deal well with serious._

_And most of the serious news seems to center around a certain bespectacled scar-headed student who I have no interest in buttering up._

_And to be completely frank, many of the times I've written about the "serious" goings-on, I've found my stories to be mysteriously and completely redacted. Sometimes after printing. 500 words on HP and his Gryffindor pals turned into "Lorem ipsum". I don't know who could have done that, but I'm quite sure his name rhymes with "Fumblegore."_

_So, in the absence of actual shenanigans, that leaves me with, shall we say, 'enhancing reality.'_

_You know, 'imaginative re-enactment.'_

_All right, 'making crap up.' Don't get me wrong, nothing I write is **completely** fictional. Just… large chunks of it._

_Now, of course, half of the fun of popular journalism is coming up with attention-grabbing headlines. Here's one I'm planning for the next edition._

_Gotcha! Hagrid hurt in griffin fracas_

_Any Hogwarts student who has ever been hurt in loony loner Rubeus Hagrid's magical creatures classes may be amused that at least one of them got their own back at him! It seems that…_

For a big man - a very, very, **very** big man - Hagrid could move around with a surprising degree of stealthiest when he wished to.

And right now, he was very stealthy indeed, as he was stalking a young griffin. He had seen signs of a young feral creature of that magical species within sight of the main school buildings. He had nothing against wild griffins, mind you - it's just that it would be safer in the deeper forest.

There it is… he crept closer. It's a tricky thing, capturing and subduing a griffin by hand, but he had done it before. He rehearsed in his mind the correct way of tackling the creature, keeping safe from the claws and beak, while at the same time, not breaking its relatively fragile wings.

Putting his game face on, his body fairly humming with energy, he got ready to spring.

*RATATATAT*

Hagrid swiveled his head around at the nearby, very loud noises, wondering what they were. He suddenly remembered why that was a mistake as a panicky griffin flew straight toward him. Unable to gain enough altitude quickly enough to clear Hagrid, the griffin tried to scrabble up the gamekeeper's body, his claws finally finding purchase in his thick beard and face.

Hagrid frantically tried to swat the creature away from him, but did not successfully protect his face from puncture.

His face injured and bleeding, as Hagrid watched the griffin flying way, there was only one thing to say. "Oh, bugger."

_I'm quite proud of that story: the description of the fight was quite vivid, I think. Did you like the quotes from the griffin? Now, I'll admit, I'm not entirely sure if griffins are capable of speech or not. 'Magical creatures' was never my best subject, but I don't think anyone will case, will they?_

_While we're talking, I should mention that I never publish anything unless it was observed in a public area, or if I have a reliable witness, or if it sounds really cool. But I would not compromise the privacy of anyone I write about._

_I guess the point I'm trying to make is: you know the 'owl-hacking' scandal that Rita Skeeter is involved in? I'd never do something that unethical._

_I don't need to sink that low for material. Thankfully, there's been no end of great stories since Miss Victoria started teaching DADA classes. Or, as I usually describe her, 'Hellsing's adorable tow-headed _femme fatale_.' Most of the boys in school are in love with her, and many of the girls are hugely jealous for that reason. She's got star quality, so it would be crazy of me not to feature her as often as possible._

_So here's another headline from the next issue:_

_'Frog Prince' makes a big bang in Hogwarts debut_

_All the men at Hogwarts are fans of Seras Victoria's Double-D weapons of mass distraction. Well, from the explosions you've been hearing lately, weapons of a different kind are making an appearance at Hogwarts. Yesterday…_

Pip Bernadotte had been in hairy situations before: jungle warfare in the Congo. Urban fighting in Sarajevo. Running guns in the Khyber Pass.

"Don't point that end of the gun at me! Jesus!"

In many ways, this was the most dangerous of all.

"Haven't you even **seen** a gun before?"

The only answer the students gave him was a blank stare.

"Surely you've at least seen **movies** with guns in them."

"Um… Mister Bernadotte, sir?"

"Yes?"

"What's a 'movie'?"

"Oh for… never mind." He grabbed the rifle from the Slytherin girl who had been holding it. "This is a gun, or 'boom stick.'" He pointed at the trigger assembly. "This is what makes the loud noise." Then at the stock. "This is the nicey-niceykins end that you hold against your shoulder. And this," he pointed at the barrel, "Is Mister Ouchie-Loud-Explodey-McHurtykins end. You point **it** at whatever has to die. When you squeeze Mr. Trigger, then Mr. Bullet takes a short, fast trip down Mrs. Barrel, finally exploding in Mr. Cranial Cavity. You savvy?"

The girl stepped back in apprehension.

Seras, having overheard, placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Think of the gun as a wand, Bulstrode - you need to point it in the direction you are attacking."

"Ah… like a wand?" The girl carefully hefted the weapon. "It's much heavier than a wand. So… what do I do next?"

Pip was annoyed that Seras' approach worked better than his favored method of shouting. "What do you mean, what do you do next? Aim for the target, and squeeze the trigger. You know, that little metal thing down there." He pointed to the underside of the rifle.

"Yes, but what do I say?"

"What do you… **say**?"

"When I pull the trigger. What spell incantation?"

"Incant… it's a friggin' gun! It's not a spell or a magic item or a $&^ing genie's lamnp. **It's. A. Gun.**"

"Well, yes, but it just doesn't feel right not to say something."

Pip smacked his palm over his face and swore in Urdu.

Seras piped up again. "As Captain Bernadotte was saying, you don't really **need** to say anything in particular. But if it makes you feel better… how about '_Explodiarmus_'?"

Millicent brightened up at that suggestion. "Oh, brilliant! I'll try that, then. _Explodiarmus!_" She fired the rifle.

There was a long pause as the sound of the gunshot resounded in the morning air.

Finally, Pip put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Right. Okay, on the plus side, you did successfully fire the gun. Congratulations."

She beamed. "Thank you."

"On the minus side, you neglected a few of the preparatory steps. You forgot to put on your hearing protection and goggles."

Suddenly remembering, Millicent put her hand up to the ear muffs dangling around her neck. "Oops!"

"You neglected to check that the firing range was empty."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"And most catastrophically, you failed to actually aim your rifle before firing. In fact, you didn't even point your gun in the **general** direction of the targets."

The girl went pale. "That's… bad?"

"That's very, very, **very** bad. Give me the gun."

Holding it at arm's length, she handed it back to the mercenary.

Seras spoke up. "Now fortunately, we thought something like this could happen, so we took the precaution of clearing the entire area this side of the school buildings. There are absolutely no students outside right now."

Harry Potter raised his hand. "Miss Victoria? What about Hagrid?"

If a vampiress **could** go pale, Seras would have. "Oh, shi…"

Not far off, Hagrid sat immovably in his hut, his arms seemingly frozen out in front of him, his face still bearing fresh griffin scratches. One hand held a cup, the other the ceramic handle of what used to be a teapot. The shattered remains of the rest of the pot lay all around.

The gigantic gamekeeper and part-time instructor couldn't decide if he was terrified, enraged, or just plain shocked.

He decided if he ever got the power of speech back, he would swear and curse for a solid hour.

And until he could speak again, he could only spit - and where his spit landed, the grass would never grow again.

_Now I'll admit, this story is maybe the most terrifying I've ever reported on. I have heard a thing or two about muggle weapons, and those things are seriously scary! When the bullets started flying, you never knew where they were going to go. Some of them even went in the general direction of the shrubbery I was observing from. If they had come any closer, I'd be a pierced Morgan!_

_Finally, here's my last story for the next edition:_

_Minister for Magic seen at Hogwarts: What does nutty Fudge want now?_

_Megalomaniac bureaucrat Cornelius Fudge has once again… [REDACTED]_

_Oh hell. Really? REALLY? I worked seriously hard on that story, and it's been wiped?_

_Damn. Damn damn damn.  
_

_And the worst part is, when stories start getting censored like this, that's when I know that something seriously unpleasant is in the works._

_So, it seems I now need to come up with another new story. Fast._

_Well, I'm sure I still have some good Snape/Seras material I haven't published yet. Or maybe I can do a scathing editorial about muggle weapons at Hogwarts. I'll be against them, natch._

_I'm afraid I'm going to be busy for awhile. Work to do. Perhaps we can talk again some other time._

_And remember, you heard it first in _Heard Around Hogwarts_!_

* * *

For an organization with a name right out of medieval chivalry, the Round Table Conference had developed into quite the modern bureaucracy.

Each of the twelve with a permanent seat on the table was responsible every week for providing a briefing on readiness, risks and general security. Tuesday mornings, eleven of those presented their briefings to the twelfth knight of the realm. That evening, the twelfth member presented a briefing that consolidated all twelve security assessments to Her Majesty as well as members of her privy council.

Sir Integra Hellsing **hated** Tuesday briefings. She hid her irritation by stalking the halls of her mansion in a state of high dudgeon.

"Sir Integra?" came a voice at her elbow.

She hadn't heard him approach. Nice to know he still possessed more than a measure of stealthiness. "What is it, Walter?"

"We require you in the secure communications room in five minutes."

She sighed in resignation. "Fine. Who am I presenting to?"

"You will be talking with Sir Penwood. But… Sir Integra… did you forget? This is **your** week to be briefed by the rest of the twelve."

The ash fell off the end of Integra's cigar. "No…"

"I'm afraid so."

"…crap."

"I quite agree, ma'am."

"Walter, is there a way…?"

"To foist it off on someone else?"

"Onto Sir Penwood himself, in fact."

"I was just about to suggest, Sir Integra. As I anticipated your request, I have already begun contacting the other then, and will be having them contact Sir Penwood's headquarters instead. I'll leave it to you to 'convince' Sir Penwood himself that it's his turn to brief the palace."

"Good boy, Walter. What would I do without you?"

"The same as with me, I imagine, but perhaps a hair less efficiently."

"By the way, Walter… how is Seras doing?"

"I understand she has had some difficulty at first, given the nature of the place, but that he is rapidly adapting to circumstances."

"Is she now?"

"And now with Captain Bernadotte's assistance, she appears to be making good progress."

"Yes." She took a long drag on her cigar. "I think I'd like to observe her a bit. 'In the field' as they say. Could you make the arrangements? I'd like to depart for Hogwarts after the briefing."

"I will get in touch with Dumbledore immediately."

"Pack my bags. I think I'd like to spend the night there."

"As you wish, Sir Integra."

They had reached the communications room. Integra removed her right glove and placed her bare thumb on the fingerprint reader. The lock on the door clicked open.

"Oh, and Walter?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to pack my house necktie."

* * *

**Author's note:** I'm not dead, and neither is this story. The wait for the next chapter will be shorter than the wait for this one was, although that's not saying much.

Thanks for all of the reviews!


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